Beall
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: When Beall Swan moves to Forks Washington and meets the mysterious, alluring Edward Cullen, his life take a thrilling and terrifying turn. Twilight, written with Bella as a male.
1. Beall

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt - a short sleeved white tee shirt with a picture of a feather on it; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a columbia ski jacket.

In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on the inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America.

It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I came out to my parents, and everything had changed; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.

It was to Forks that I now exiled myself - an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks. I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city.

"Bee," my mom said to me - the last of a thousand times - before I got on the place. "You don't have to do this."

Everyone says my mom looks a lot like me, except female and with more laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, hare-brained mother to fend for herself? Of course she had Phil now, so she'd be protected, have food, gas, and someone to talk to, but still...

"I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now.

"Tell Charlie I said hi."

"I will."

"I'll see you soon," She insisted. "You can come home whenever you want - I'll come right back as soon as you need me." I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.

"Don't worry about me," I urged. "I'm almost a man now. It'll be great. I love you, Mom."

She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone. It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Luckily flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was worried about.

Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole coming out thing three years ago. It had genuinely shocked him that his only son turned out to be gay, but he seemed genuinely please that I was coming to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He's already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car.

But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was a little confused by me and my decision - like my mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks.

When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen - just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun.

Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Chief Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows down traffic like a cop.

Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.

"It's good to see you, Bee," he said. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee?"

"Mom's fine. It's good to see you, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face until I turned eighteen.

I only had my suitcase and messenger bag, which I think surprised my Dad. Most of my clothes weren't really suitable for cold weather, so I had my mom keep or donate them, and took what I could with me. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter clothes, but it still wasn't much. Luckily, I wasn't a clothes horse.

"I found a good car for you, really cheap," Charlie announced when we were buckled in.

"What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good care for you" as opposed to just "good car."

"Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy."

"Where did you find it?"

"Do you remember Billy Black down as La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast.

"No."

"He used to go fishing with us during the summer," Charlie prompted. That would explain why I didn't remember. My dad forced me to do all sorts of 'manly' things before I came out to him. I do a good job of blocking painful, unnecessary things from my memory.

"He's in a wheelchair now," Charlie continues when I didn't respond, "so he can't drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap."

"What year is it?" I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was neither hoping or expecting me to ask.

"Well, Billy's done a lot of work on the engine - it's only a few years old, really."

I hoped he didn't think so little of my masculinity as to believe I would give up that easily.

"When did he buy it?"

"He bought it in 1984, I think. "

"Did he buy it new?"

"Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties - or late fifties at the earliest," he admitted sheepishly.

"Ch-Dad. I don't really know anything about cars. I wouldn't be able to fix it if anything went wrongs, and I couldn't afford a mechanic..."

"Really, Beall, the thing runs great. They don't build them like that anymore."

The thing, I thought to myself... It had possibilities - as a nickname as the very least.

"How cheap is cheap?" After all, that was the part I couldn't compromise on.

"Well, son, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift." Charlie peeked sideways at me with a hopeful expression. Wow. Free.

"You didn't need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car."

"I don't mind. It's a father to son kind of thing. Plus, I want you to be happy here."

He was looking ahead at the road when he said this. Charlie wasn't comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So i was looking straight ahead as I responded.

"That's really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it." No need to add that my being happy in Forks is an impossibility. He didn't need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a gift truck in the mouth - or engine.

"Well, now, you're welcome," he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks. We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for conversation. We stared out the windows in silence.

It was beautiful, of course; I couldn't deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves. It was beautiful, but too green - an alien planet.

Eventually we made it to Charlie's. He still lived in the small, two-bedroom house that he'd bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had - the early ones.

There, parked on the street in front of the house that never changed, was my new - well, new to me - truck. It was a faded red color, with bug, rounded fenders and bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I actually liked it. I didn't know if it would run, but my fears that it was a manly redneck truck unsuited for my sexuality vanished.

"Wow, Dad, great pick. I love it. Thank you." Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that much less dreaful. I wouldn't be faced with the choice of either walking to miles int he rain to school or accepting a ride in the Chief's cruiser.

"Glad you like it." Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again.

It took only one trip to get my few bags upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the indigo curtains around the window - these were all apart of my childhood. The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the crib for bed, adding a desk, and allowing me to put up posters of hollywood males as my tastes changed.

The desk now held a second-hand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily. I also noticed with slight distain that my Johnny Depp poster was hanging askew and that the rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner.

One of the best things about Charlie is he doesn't hover. He left me alone to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible for my mother.

It was nice to be alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to state dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn't in the mood to go on a real crying jag, a rather female habit that had presented itself in my character the last few years. I would save that for later, when the thoughts of the next morning became too horrible.

Forks High School had a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven - now fifty-eight - students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All of the kids here had grown up together - their grandparents had been toddlers together. I would be the new kid from the big city, a curiosity, a freak.

Maybe, if I looked like a normal guy from Phoenix should, i could work this to my advantage. But physically, I'd never fit in anywhere. I should be tan, muscled, popular - a football player or wrestler, perhaps - all the things that go with living in the valley of the sun.

Instead, I was pall, without even the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, despite the constant sunshine. I had always been skinny and bony, obviously not an athlete; I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination or testosterone to play sports without humiliating myself.

Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through mye yes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain. But the cause didn't matter. All that mattered was the effect.

And tomorrow would be just the beginning.


	2. School

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I was done with the little crying I would allow myself. The constant whooshing of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn't fade into the background, even after I pulled my old quilt and pillow over my head. I didn't pass out until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle.

Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage.

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me.

Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table and examined his small kitchen, with its dark paneled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing was changed.

Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First a wedding picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year.

It was impossible, being in the house, not to realize that Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.

I didn't want to be too early to school, but I couldn't stay in the house anymore. I donned my jacket - which had the feel of a biohazard suit - and headed out into the rain.

It was drizzling still, not enough to soak me through immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked.

I couldn't pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around my head and clung to my hair under my hood.

Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. Luckily the engine started quickly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Not a bad flaw for a truck like this. The radio at least worked.

Finding the school wasn't difficult, though I'd never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made me stop.

It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size as first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain-link fences, the metal detectors?

I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading 'FRONT OFFICE'. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling the lot like a dunce.

I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than I'd hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chirs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly.

Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn't enough greenery outside. The room was cut in hald bu a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers tped to its front.

There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. she was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.

The red-haired woman looked up. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Beall Swan." I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Son of the Chief's flighty ex-wife, come home at last. Wait until they figure out i'm gay...

"Of course," she said. She dug through a precariously stakced pile of documents on her desk until she found the ones she was looking for.

"I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.

She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day.

She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.

When I went back out to my truc, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy.

At home I'd lived in one of the few lower-income neighborhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes of Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot so that the thunderous volume wouldn't draw attention.

I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorize it now; hopefully I wouldn't have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and suced in a huge breath.

I can do this, I lied to myself feebly.

No one was going to bite me.

I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck, keeping my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk crowded with teenagers. My plain jacket didn't stand out.

My first classroom was small. The people walking in ahead of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them.

I took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name - nnot an encouraging response - and of course I flushed tomato red.

He sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed.

I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I'd already read everything.

That was comforting... and boring. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. I shrugged inwardly. I didn't mind reading books a second time, I loved to read.

When the bell rang, nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.

"You're Beall, aren't you?" He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.

"'Sup?" I said. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me.

"Where's your next class?" He asked. I made a three-second assessment of his sexual orientation, then remembered I had to look in my bag for my schedule.

"Um, Government, with Jefferson. Building six."

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way..." Definitely over-helpful, definitely not gay.

"I'm Eric." He added.

I smiled tentatively. "Thanks."

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" Eric asked.

"Very."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

"Three or four times a year."

"Wow, what must that be like?" He wondered.

"Sunny." I told him.

"You don't look tan, bro."

"My mother is part albino."

He studied my face apprehensively, and I sighed. It looked like clouds and a sense of humor didn't mix. A few months of this and I'd forget how to use sarcasm.

We walked back aorund the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.

"Well, good luck." he said as I touched the handle. "Maybe we'll have some classes together, man." He sounded genuine.

I smiled vaguely in reply and went inside.

The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyways just becayse of the subject he taught, was the only on who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself.

After two classes, I started to recognize several of the faces in each class. There ws always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me how I was liking Forks.

I tried to be diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot.

One firl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, but her wildly curly dark hair made up some height for her. I couldn't remember her name, but I got the vibe that she was one of those girls who just gravitates toward gays.

We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot all their names instantly.

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to mke conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, five of them. They weren't talking or eating, though they each had a try of untouched food in front of the them.

They weren't gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big - muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular and honey blonde.

The last was lanky, less bulky, with untidy bronze-colored hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could be in college, or evn teachers here rather than students.

The girls were opposites. The tall one was statuesque and had the kind of looks that made every girl round her take a hit on her self-esteem just by being in the same room. The short girl looked like a little pixie with pointy hair.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in their hair colors. They also had very dark shadows under those eyes.

But all this was not why I couldn't look away. I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful.

They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful - maybe the perfect blonde girl or the bronze-haired boy.

"Who are _they?"_ I asked the girl from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten. As she looked up to see who I meant - though already knowing, probably, from my tone - suddenly he looked at her, the thinner one, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine.

He looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

"That's Edward, Alice and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said this under her breth.

I glanced again at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long pale fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, his perfect lips barely opening as he spoke to the other.

"They are... very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yes!" The girl giggled, and I suddenly remembered that her name was Jessica. "They're _together_ though - Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they _live_ together."

Her voice held all the shock and condemnation fo the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix it would cause gossip.

"Which ones are the Cullens?" I asked. "They don't look related..."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties of thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins - the blondes - and they're foster children.

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something."

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.

"No," she said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I felt a surge of pity and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" I asked. He was still staring as me, but not gawking like the other students had today - he had a slightly frustrated expression.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course. And single. apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when he's turned her down, and whether his disinterest in the opposite sex might mean something else... But I wouldn't get my hopes up.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at him agin. His face was turned away now, but I thought his cheek appreared lifted, as if he were smiling, too.

After a few more minutes, the five of them got up and left the table together. They were all noticeably graceful - even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. Edward didn't look my way again.

I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would hve if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day.

One of my new aquaintances, who considerately reminded me that her name was Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy too.


	3. Disgust

When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat.

He was staring at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face - it was hostile, furious.

I looked away quickly, shocked, trying not to go red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkwaay and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled, and I smirked at her to save face. She blushed.

Mr. banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room.

I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by him, bewildered by the ntagonistic stae he'd given me.

I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chiar and averting his face like he smelled something bad.

Wow. Edward Cullen must have figured it out... because he was taking homophobic to a whole new level.

During the uncomfortable class that followed, Edwards never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see his hand on his left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under the pale skin. This too, never relaced.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because I was waiting for a sign of acceptance from my stony deskmate?

I peeked over at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. The phrase _if looks could kill _ran through my mind.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. Fluidly he rose - he was much taller than I was - his back to me, and he was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my chair, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up.

For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tea ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, something that earned me lots of humiliation in elementary and middle school.

"Are you Bell Swann?" a male voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute, baby-face boy, his pale blonde hair carefully gelled into orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. Definitely gay.

"Beall." I corrected him, with a smile.

"I'm Mike."

"Hi, Mike."

"Do you need any held finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it.

"That's my next class, too." He seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence in a school this small.

We walked to class together; he was a chatterer - he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He's lived in California till he was ten, se he know how I felt about the sun. It turned oout he was in my English class too.

He was the nicest person I'd met today.

But as we were entering the hum, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticied. And, apparently, that _wasn't_ Edward Cullen's usual behavior.

I decided to play dumb.

"Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.

"Yes," He said. "he looked like he was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to him."

"He's a weird guy." Mike said, following me into the locker room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

Definitely, definitely gay.

I smiled at him before going to find a locker. He was friendly and clearly admiring, but it wasn't enough to ease my irritation.

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform. At home, only two years of P.E. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell on Earth.

I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained - and inflicted - playing volleyball. I felt nauseated.

The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.

When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.

Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that tousled bronze hair. He didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with her in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time - any other time.

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk.

Edward Cullen's back stiffened, and he turned slowly to glare at me - his face ws absurdly handsome - with piercing, hate-filled eyes.

For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.

"Never mind, then," he said hastily in a voice like velvet. "I can see that it's impossible. Thanks you so much for your help." And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.

I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.

"How did you first day go, dear?" the receptionist asked maternally.

"Fine." I lied. I could tell she didn't believe me.

When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly.

Soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life.

I headed back to Charlie's house, fighting tears the whole way there.


	4. Dinner

The next day was better... and worse.

It was better because it wasn't raining yet, thought the clouds were so dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day.

Mike came to sit by me in English, and walking to my next class, with Chess Club Eric glaring at him all the while; that was flattering. And it made me re-think my judgement on Eric's sexual orientation. I decided on bi.

People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Mike, Eric, jessica, and sevel other people whose names and faces I now remembered.

It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn't sleep with the wind echoing around the house.

It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised and I had the wrong answer.

It was miserable because I had to play volleyball. That was a total catastrophe.

And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn't at school at all.

All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing his bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was like any other testosterone-crazed male, I even imagined what I would say...

But I knew myself too well to think I would have the guts to do it. I made the cowardly lion look like the terminator.

When I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica - trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for him, and failing entirely - I saw that his four siblings of sorts were sitting together at the same table, and he was not with them.

Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. I vaguely wondered if Jessica knew that Mike was gay.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, Edward cullen hadn't appeared. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class.

I held my breath at the door, but Edward wasn't there. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach.

He lingered at my desk till the bell rang, then smiled at me wistfully and went to sit at his desk. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn't be easy.

In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential since no one knew about my Homosexuality, and I had a feeling they didn't know about Mike's either. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't had many boys crushing on me, so my tact when it came to things like that was... well, lacking.

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself and that Edward was absent, I told myself repeatedly, but I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn't there.

It was ridiculous and egotistical to think that I could affect anyone that strongly... Not to mention impossible.

When the school day was finally done and the blush caused by my numerous volleyball accidents had faded, I changed quickly out of my P.E. clothes and back into my jeans and navy blue sweatervest and scurried out of the locker room, pleased that Mike hadn't waited for me.

I hopped into my truck and dug through my bag to make sure I had what I needed.

Last night I'd discovered that Charlie couldn't cook much besides fried eggs and bacon, So I requested that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay.

He was willing enough to hand over the keys to the banquet hall, though I think he was surprised that his only son wanted to do the cooking in his house.

I had also found out this morning that we had literally no food in the house, which wasn't very encouraging to a seventeen-year-old boy who despite his slim figure ate a lot.

So, I made a shopping list and took the money out of the jar labelled FOOD MONEY and made a date after school with the local Thriftway.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot.

As I waited, trying to pretend that the earsplitting rumble was coming from someone else's car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo... of course.

They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when I was finally free of the school grounds.

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway.

It was nice to be inside the supermarket, it felt normal. I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the paattern of the familiar task gladly. The store ws big enough inside that I couldn't hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was.

* * *

When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn't mind.

I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the over to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge.

When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into sweats and checked my email for the first time. I had three messages.

_Beall, write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. Is it raining? I miss you already. I'm almost finished packing for Florida, but I can't find my pink blouse. Did you see it in the laundry? Phil says hi. Mom. _

I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.

_Beall, why hadn't you e-mailed me yet? What are you waiting for? Mom. _

The last was from this morning.

_Young man, If I haven't heard from you by 5:30 p.m. today, I'm calling Charlie. _

I rolled my eyes then checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was well known for jumping the gun.

_Mom. Calm down. I'm writing right now. Don't do anything rash. Beall. _

I sent that, then began again.

_Mom, everything is great. Of course it's raining. I was waiting for something to write about. school isn't bad, just repeptitive. I met a nice crowd. The blouse is at the dry-cleaners, they called last friday. Charlie bought me a truck, it's old but sturdy and I love it. I miss you too, i'll write again soon, but I'm not goign to check my e-mail every five minutes. Remember what I told you at the airport? I'm a man now. I love you. Beall. _

I hit send, then picked up my copy of _Wuthering Heights_ - the novel we were currently studying in English - and began reading it again for the fun of it. That's what I was doing when Charlie came home.

I'd lost track of time, and hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil.

"Beall?" My father called out when he heard me on the stairs.

Who else? I thought to myself.

"Hey Dad, welcome home."

"Thanks." He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I bustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he'd never shot the gun on the job, but kept it ready.

When I was younger, he'd remove the bullets as soon as he walking in the door. I iguess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.

"What's for dinner?" he asked warily.

"Steak and potatoes." I answered, and he looked relieved.

He seemed to feel awkwards standing in the kitchen doing nothing; he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked, and set the table.

I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.

"Smells good, son."

"Thanks."

We ate in silence for a few minutes. it wasn't uncomfortable. Neither of us were bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we were well suited for living together.

"So, how did you like school? Have you made any... ah, friends?" he asked as he was taking seconds.

"Well, I have a few classes with a girl named Jessica. I sit with her friends at lunch. And there's this boy, Mike... he's very friendly. Everybody seems pretty nice." With one outstanding exception, I added mentally.

"That must be Mike Newton. Nice kid - nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside of town. He makes a good living off all the backpackers who come through here."

I knew that Charlie's short interlude about the Newton family was his way of approving Mike as dateable material.

"Do you know the Cullen family?" I asked hesitantly.

"Dr. Cullen's family? Sure. Dr. Cullen's a great man."

"They... the kids... aare a little different. They don't seem to fit in very well at school."

Charlie surprised me by looking angry.

"People in this town," he muttered. "Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeous who could probably work in any hospital int he world, make ten times the salary he gets here," He continued, getting louder.

"We're lucky to have him - lucky his wife wanted to live in a small town. He's an asset to the community, and all those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they're all very mature - haven't had one speck of trouble from any of them. That's more than I can say for some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should - camping trips every other weekend... Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

It was the longest speech I'd ever heard Charlie make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying.

I backpedaled.

"They seem nice enough to me, I just noticed they kept to themselves. They're all very attractive." I added, trying to be more complimentary.

"You should see the doctor," Charlie said, laughing. "It's a good thing he's happily married. A lot of the nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around."

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table while I started on the dushes. He went back to the TV, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand - no dishwasher - I went upstairs to my math homework.

I could feel a tradition in the making.

That night it was finally quiet. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted.


	5. Edward Returns To School

The rest of the week was uneventful.

I got used to the routine of my classes and by Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students at school.

In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way.

Edward Cullen didn't come back to school.

Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Cullens entered the cafeteria without him. The I could relax a little and pay more attention to the lunchtime conversation.

Most of the others were talking about a trup to La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. He had invited me a little too enthusiastically, and I accepted more out of politness than desire. I was of the opinion that beaches should be hot and dry.

By Friday, I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edwards would be there. For all I knew, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about him, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his contineud absence.

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Charlie, unused to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend.

I cleaned, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my mom more bogusly cheerful e-mails.

I also drove the the local library on Saturday. It was pitifully stocked, but I got a card and checked out a few novels anyway. I reminded myself to make a date to visit Olympia or Seaattle soon and find a real bookstore.

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.

People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn't know all their names, but I waved bck and smiled at everyone. It was colder, but happily not raining.

In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz, and I thought I saw him peeking at my answers.

All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable that I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable that I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other.

"Wow," Mike said. "It's snowing."

I looked up at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face.

"Ew." Snow. There went my good day.

Mike looked surprised. "Don't you like snow?"

"No. That means it's too cold for rain." Obviously. "Besides, I thought it waas supposed to come down in flakes - you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips."

"Haven't you ever seen snow fall before?" Mike asked incredulously.

"Sure I have." I paused. "On TV."

Mike laughed. And then a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it came from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, back towards us - in the wrong direction for his next class.

Mike apparently had the same notion. He bent over and began scraping together a pile of the white mush.

"I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I kept walking. "Once people start throwing wet stuff, i'm outta here."

He just nodded, hell-bent on getting Eric back.

* * *

Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. Sure it was drier than rain... until it melted in your socks.

I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jessica after Spanish. Mush baclls were flying everywhere. I kept a bunder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary.

Jessica thought I was hilarious, but something in my expression kept her from lobbing a snowball at me herself.

Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with ice melting the spikes in his hair. He and Jessica were talking animatedly about the snow fight as we got in line to buy food.

I glanced toward the table in the corner out of habit, then froze when I saw five figures at the table instead of four.

Jessica pulled on my arm.

"Hello? Beall? What do you want to eat?" I looked down; my ears went hot.

I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong.

"Something up, man?" Mike asked.

"Nope. I'll just get a soda." I replied.

"You're a teenage guy, and you're saying no to food?" Jessica asked incredulously.

"I feel a little bit sick." I said, my eyes still on the floor.

I waited for them to get their food, then followed them to a table, stomach churning.

Mike asked twice, with unnecessqry concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing, but wondered if I should play it up and escape to the nurse's office for the next hour.

But that was ridiculous. I was a man, wasn't I? I shouldn't have to run.

I decided to allow myslef one glance at the Cullen family's tble. If he was glaring at me, I would skip Biology like the coward I was.

I kept my head down and glanced up under my lashes. None of them were looking this way. I lifted my head a little.

They were laughing. Edward, Jasper and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with melting snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hair towards them.

They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else. Only... they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But aside from the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I coudlnt' quite pinpoint what the difference was. I examined Edward the most carefully.

His skinw as less pale, I decided - flushed from the snow fight maybe - the circles under his eyes much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered on this for a while, trying to isolate hte change.

"Beall? What are you staring at?" Jessica intruded, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, his eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I dropped my head, taking a quick swig of my soda to try and cover myself. I was sure in the instant our eyes met, Edward didn't look harsh on unfriendly as he had the last time I'd seen him. He looked merely curious again, unsatisfied in some way.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you." Jessica said in my ear, sounding slightly surprised.

"He doesn't look angry, does he?" I couldn't help asking.

"No..." she said, sounding even more confused by my question. "Should he be?"

"I don't think he likes me." I confided. I still felt queasy.

"The Cullens don't like anybody... well, they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But he's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at him, then." I replied.

Mike interrupted us then - he was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Jessica agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything he suggested. I resisted a snicker... poor girl still didn't know.

For the rest of lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I'd made with myself. Since he didn't look angry, I would go to Biology.


	6. Edward

I didn't really want to walk to class with Mike as usual - he seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers - but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison.

It was raining, washing all traces of the snow away in clear, icy ribbons down the side fo the walkway. I pulled my hood up, secretly pleased. I wouldn't have to avoid the blizzard battle after Gym.

Mike hardly shared my enthusiasm, keeping up a string of complaints on the way to Biology.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table way still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table.

Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, preferring to pull out my sketch book and doodle in it.

I heard very clearly whent he chair next to me moved, but my eyes stared carefully focused on my drawing.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but his chiar was angled toward me. His hair was dripping wat, disheveled - even so, he looked like he'd just finished shooting a commmercial for hair gel.

"My name is Edward Cullen," He continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Beall Swan."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? He was perfectly polite now.

Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label the accordingly.

"Would you like to go first, partner?" Edward asked. I could only stare at him like an idiot as a crooked smile graced his features. The smile was fading. He was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent.

"Nah," I said, trying to sound cool. "I'll go."

I was showing off, just a little. I'd already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly.

"Prophase." I said confidently.

"Do you mind if I look?" he asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught mind, to stop me, as he asked.

His fingers were ice-cold, like he'd be holding them in a snowdrift before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.

"Sorry, man." he muttere, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him as he examined the slide for an even shorter time than I had.

"Prophase." He agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.

"Anaphase." he murmuered, writing it down as he spoke.

I kept my voice indifferent. "May I?"

He smirked an dpushed the microscope to me. I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Dang it, he was right.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand without looking at him, feeling my male competition streak begin to show itself.

He handed it to me; it seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again. I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

"Interphase." I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down. I would have written it while he looked, but his clear, elegant script intimidated me. My hand writing was nice; inspired by one of my gay friends back home with perfect calligraphy, but not as nice as Edward's.

We were finished before anyone else was even close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides agina nd again, and another group had their book open under the table. Which left me with nothing to do but go back to my sketch and try not to look at him... unsuccessfully.

I glanced up, and he was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes.

Suddenly, I identified the subtle different in his face.

"Did you get contact?" I blurted out unthinkingly.

He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. "No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes." He shrugged and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of his eyes the last time he'd glared at me - the color was striking against the background of his pale skin and his auburn hair.

Today, his eyes were a completely different color: a strange ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tone.

I didn't understand how that could be, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literaal sense of the word.

I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. He looked over our shoulders to glace at the completed labe, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Edward, didn't you think Mr. Swan should get a chance with the microscope?" Mr. Banner asked.

"Beall," Edward said smoothly. "Actually identified three of the five slides."

Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expressionw as skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?" he asked.

I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yeah."

Mr. Banner nodded. "were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well," he said after a moment, "I guess it's good you two are lab partner." He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I returned to my sketch, and it began taking on the shape of a dog.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked.

I had the feeling he was forcing himself to make small talk with me.

"Not really." I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else.

"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a question.

"Or the wet." I added.

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live." he mused.

"You have no idea." I muttered darkly.

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine. "Why did you come here, then?"

No one had asked me that - not straight out like he did.

"It's complicated." I said, running a hand through my hair.

"I think I can keep up." he pressed.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

"My mother got remarried." I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex." He disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"Last Spetember." My voice sounded sad, even to me.

"And you don't like him." Edward surmised, his tone still kind.

"No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough."

"Why didn't you stay with them?"

I couldn't fathem his interest, but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life's story was somehow vitally important.

"Phil travels a lot. He plays ball for a living." I half-smiled.

"Have I heard of him?" he asked, smiling in response.

"probably not. He doesn't play _well. _Strictly minor leaque. He moves around a lot."

"And your mother send you here so that she could travel with him." He said it as an assumption again, not a question.

My chin raised a fraction. "No. I sent myself."

His eyebrows knitted together. "I don't understand," he admitted, and he seemed unneceassarily frustrated by that fact.

I sighed. Why was I explaining this time him? He continued to stare at me with abvious curiosity.

"She stayed with me at first, but she missed him. It made her unhappy... so i decided it waas time to spend some quality time with my Dad." My voice was glum by the time I finished.

"But now you're unhappy." he pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." He shrugged, but his eyes were still intense.

I laughed without humor. "Life isn't fair, man." My laugh quickly turned into a scowl.

"Am I annoying you?" Edward asked. He sounded amused.

"Not exactly. I'm just annoyed that i'm easy to read." I frowned.

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." He sounded honest.

"You must be a good reader." I replied. Oh my god... was I flirting?

"Usually." He smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultrawhite teeth. Oh my god.

Mr. Banner called hte class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. I tried to be attentive through the rest of the class, but my thoughts were unmanageable.

When the bell finally rang, Edward rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as he had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after him in amazement.

Mike skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me. I thanked him and took them back. He looked hurt, but got over it quickly. I imagined him with a wagging tail.

"That was awful," he groaned. "they all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner, man."

"I didn't have any trouble with it." I said, stung by his assumption."I've done this lab before, though." I added.

"Cullen seemed friendly enough today." he commented as we put on our raincoats. He didn't sound pleased.

I couldn't concentate on Mike's chatter as we walked to the Gym, and P.E. didn't do much to hold my attention either. Mike was on my team today. He chivalrously covered my position as well as his own, so my woolgathering was only interrupted when it was my turn to serve. My team made sure to duck whenever I was up.

The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab of my truck. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the mind-numbing roar of the engine.

I looked around to see that the coast was clear before I pulled out. That's when I noticed the still, white figure.

Edward Cullen was leaning against the front door of his Volvo and staring intently in my direction.

I swiftly looked away and threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Corolla in my haste. Lucky for it, I stomped on the brake in time.

I took a deep breaath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success.

I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I could swear I saw Edward laughing.


	7. The Accident

When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.

It was the light. It was still the gray-green wash that covered Forks, but it was clearer somehow. I realized that there was no fog outside my window.

I got up to look, then groaned in horrow.

A fine layer of snow covered the yard, dusted the top of the truck, and whitened the road. And to top it off... all the rain from yesterday had frozen solid, making the driveway a deadly skating rink that I knew would do no favors for my coordination.

Charlie had left for work before I got downstairs, which was nice. It was like living on my own, almost.

I threw down a bowl of cereal and juice, feeling surprisingly excited for school.

I knew it wasn't the stimulating learning environment or my new friends. If I was being honest, I knew I was eager just to see Edward Cullen.

Driving to school, I distracted myself from my fear of slipping on the ice and my irrational speculations about Edward Cullen but thinking about Mike and Eric, and the interesting way I seemed to be attracting teenage boys all of a sudden.

I was sure that I looked exactly the same as I had in Phoenix... Maybe it was just that the boys back home had watched me pass through all the awkard phases of adolescence and the whole coming out thing, so they were just used to me.

Perhaps it was because I was a novelty, or maybe my clumsiness was seen as cute.

Whatever the reaasoin, Mike's puppydog bahvior and Eric's rivalry with him were slightly disconcerting. I wasn't sure if I liked not being ignored.

When I got out of my truck after a slow but sfe ride to school, I saw why I'd had so little trouble with the ice. Charlie had gotten up who knows how early to put chains on my truck.

I wasn't used to being taken care of, and Charlie's unspoken concern caught me by surprise.

I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to think of what I could do for Charlie in return, when I heard an odd sound. It was a high pitched screech, and it was coming up fast and loud.

I looked up, startled.

I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion like it does in the movies, and I was able to absorb the event in clear detail.

Edward Cullen was standing four cars down from me, staring in horror. His face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock.

But of more immediate importance was the dark blue van that was skidding, tired locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the prking lot.

It was going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I ws standing between them. I didn't even have time to close my eyes.

Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the truck bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting.

My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the pavement behind the tan car I'd parked next to.

I didn't have a chance to notice anything else, becasue the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me again.

A low oath made me aware that someone was with me, and the voice was impossible not to recognize.

Two long, white hands shot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of the van's body.

Then his hands moved so fast the blurred. One was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and somehting ws dragging me, swingin me like a rag doll until I hit the tire of the tan car.

A groaning metalling thud hurt my ears, and the wan settled, glass popping, onto the asphalt - exactly where, a second ago, my lefs had been.

It was absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming began. It the abrupt bedlam, I could hear more thn one person shouting my name.

But, more clearly than all the yelling, I could hear Edward Cullen's low frantic voice in my ear.

"Beall? Are you all right?"

"Fine, man..." My voice sounded strange.

"Be careful," He warned. "I think you hit your head pretty hard." I became aware of a throbbing ache above my left ear.

"Ah." I said, surprised at the pain.

"That's what I thought." His voice, amazingly, sounded like he was suppressing laughter.

"How in the..." I trailed off, trying to organize my thoughts. "How did you get over here so fast?"

"I was standing right next to you." he said, this time serious.

I sat up and looked at his concerned, innocent expression and was further disoriented by his golden eyes.

I was going to say something else, but then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us.

"Don't move!" someone instructed.

"Get Tyler out of the van!" someone else instructed.

There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up, but Edward's cold hand pushed my shoulder down.

"Just stay put for now."

"It's cold, man..." I protested. Edward chuckled and I glared.

"You were over there." I suddenly remembered. "You were by your car!"

His expression turned hard. "No, I wasn't."

"I saw you." All around us was chaos. I could hear the gruffer voices of adults arriving on the scene, but I obstinately held on to our argument; I was right, and he was going to have to fess up eventually.

"Beall, I was standing right with you, and I pulled you out of the way."

"No." I set my jaw.

"Please, Beall." His eyes blazed.

"Why?" I demanded.

"Trust me." he pleaded. I could hear the sirens now.

"Will you promise to explain everything to me later?" I asked.

"Fine." he snapped, abruptly exasperated.

"Fine." I repeated angrily.

It took six EMT's and two teachers to shift the van far enough away from us to bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused his. I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I'd hit my head.

I almost died of humilitation when they put on the neck brace. It looked like the entire school was watching as they put it on and loaded me into the ambulance while Edward maddeningly got to ride up front.

To make matters worse, Chief Swan arrived bafore they could get me safely away.

"Beall!" he yelled in panic when he recognized me on the stretched.

"I'm completely fine, Char- Dad," I sighed. "There's nothing wrong with me." He turned to the closest EMT for a second opinion.

I tuned him out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images churning in my head.

When they'd lifted me away from the car, I had seen the deep dent in the tan car's bumper - a very distinct dent that fit the contours of Edward's shoulders... as if he had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame.

And then there was his family, looking on from the distance with expression that ranged from disapproval to fury but helf no hint of concern for their brother's safety.

I tried to think of a logical solution that could explain what I had just seen - a solution that exccluded the assumption that I was insane.

Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me.

What made it worse was that Edward simply glided through the hospital doors under his own power, making me grind my teeth together.

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterent curtains. A nurse put a pressure coff on my arm and a thermometer in my mouth.

I decided I could live without the neck brace and took it off as soon as the nurse left.

There was another flurry of hospital personnel, another strecthed brought to the bed next to me. I recognized tyler Crowley from my Government clss beneath the blood-stained bandages wrapped around his head.

He looked a hundred times worse than I felt, but he was staring anxiously at me.

"Beall, man, I'm so sorry!"

"I'm fine Tyler. Man, you look awful... are you all right?"

As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages exposing a myriad of shallow slives all over his forehead and left cheek.

He ignored me. "Man, I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong..." he winced as a nurse began dabbing at his face.

"Don't worry about it; you missed me."

"Dude, how did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone..."

"Edward pulled me out fo the way."

He looked confused. "Who?"

"Edward Cullen - he was standing next to me." I'd always been a terrible liar; I didn't sound convincing at all.

"Cullen? I didn't see him... wow, it was all so fast, I guess. He okay?"

"I think so. He's here somewhere."'

They wheeled me off to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I asked if I could leave, but the nurse said I had to talk to a doctor first.

So, I was trapped in the ER, waiting, harrassed by Tyler's constant apologies and promises to make it up to me. No matter how many times I tried to convince him I was fine, he continued to torment himself.

Finally, I closed my eyes and ignored him. He kept up a remorseful mumbling.

"Is he asleep?" a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open.

Edward was standing at the foot of my bed, smirking. I glared at him.

"Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry - " Tyler began. Edward lifted a hand to stop him.

"No blood, no foul." he said. He moved to sit on the edge of Tyler's bed, smirking at me again.

"So, what's the verdict?" he asked me.

"There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they won't let me go," I complained. "How come you aren't strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?"

"It's all about who you know," he answered. "But don't worry, I came to spring you."

Then a doctor walked around the corner, and I tried very hard not to let my jaw drop. He was young, blonde and pale except for dark circles under his eyes. From Charlie's description, I deduced that this was Edward's father.

"So, Mr. Swan," Dr. Cullen said. "how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." I said, for what I hoped was the last time.

"Your X-rays look good," he said as he looked at the lightboard. "Does your head hurt?"

"Not really." I replied.

"Well, your father is in the waiting room - you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight?"

"Can't I go back to school?" I asked, imagining Charlie at home trying be attentice.

"Maybe you should take it easy today."

I glanced at Edward. "Does _he_ get to go to school?"

"Someone had to spread the good news that we survived." Edward said smugly.

"Actually," Dr. Cullen corrected, "most of the school seems to be in the waiting room."

I gave him a wide-eyed look of terror.

"Do you want to stay?" Dr. Cullen asked, eyebrows raised.

"Nope." I replied, nearly throwing myself out of the bed. I went a little too fast and slipped on the wet edge of my jeans. Dr. Cullen steadied me, looking concerned.

"I'm fine." I assured him again, leaning down to roll up the soaking leg of my pants a little.

"Well, you are extremely lucky." Dr. Cullen said, signing my chart with a flourish.

"Lucky Edward happened to be standing nearby." I said lightly, turning my head to glare at the subject of my statement.

"Oh, well, yes." Dr. Cullen agrred, suddenly ovvupied with the papers in front of him. Then he looked away, at Tyler, and walked to the next bed.

My intuition flickered; the doctor was in on it.

"Can I talk to you for a minute? I hissed at Edward the moment the doctor moved on. He took a step back, jaw suddenly clenched.

"Your father is waiting for you." he said through his teeth.

"I'd like to speak to you alone, if you don't mind." I pressed.

He glared, then turned and strode down the room. I nearly had to run to keep up. As soon as we turned the corner into a deserted hallway, he spun around to face me.

"What do you want?" he asked, sounding annoyed. His eyes were cold.

His unfriendliness intimidated me. "You owe me an explanation."

"I saved your life - I don't owe you anything."

I flinched back from the resentment in his voice. "You promised."

"Beall, you hit your head, you don't know what you're talking about." his tone was cutting.

"There's nothing wrong with my head, man." I replied, my temper flaring. I glared defiantly. He glared back.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to know the truth," I said. "I want to know why everyone's lying."

"What do you _think _happened?" he snapped.

"All I know is that you weren't anywhere near me - Tyler didn't see you either, so don't tell me I hit my head too hard. That van was going to crush us bother - and it didn't, and your hands left dents in the side of it - and the van should have smashed my legs, but you were holding it up..." I could hear how crazy it sounded, and I couldn't continue.

I was so mad I could feel the tears coming; I tried to force them back by grinding my teeth together and running both hands through my hair.

Edward was staring at me incredulously, but his face was tense and defensive.

"You think I lifted a van off you?" His tone questioned my sanity, but it made me more suspicious. It was like a perfectly delivered line by a skilled actor.

I merely nodded, jaw tight.

"Nobody will believe that, you know."

"I'm not going to tell anybody."

"Then why does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

"Can't you just thank me and get over it?"

"Thank you."

I waited, fuming and expectant.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No."

We scowled at each other in silence, and I could practically smell the testosterone crackling in the air. It was like staring down Angel from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

"Why did you even bother?" I asked frigidly.

He paused, and for a brief moment, his stunning face was... well, stunned.

"I don't know." he said.

And then he turned his back on me and walked away.

I was so angry, it was a few minutes before I could move. When I could, I slowly walked to the exit at the end of the hall.

The waiting room was more unpleasant than I feared. It seemed like every faace I knew in Forks was there, staring at me. Charlie rushed to my side; I put up my hands.

"There's nothing wrong with me." I assured him.

"What did the doctor say?"

"Doctor Cullen saw me, and he said I could go." I sighed. Mike, Eric and Jessica were all there, beginning to converge. I urged Charlie to leave.

I waved half-heartedly at my friends as I went by on my way out, hoping to convey that they didn't need to worry. It was a relief to get into the cruiser and drive away.

We travelled home in silence. I was so wrapped up in my thoguhts that I barely know Charlie was there.

I was positive that Edward's defensive behavior was a confirmation of the bizarre things I could still barely believe I witnessed.

"Um... you'll need to call Renee." Charlie said upon our arrival at the house, hanging his head guiltily.

I was appalled.

"Jesus, Dad! You told Mom?!"

"Sorry."

I slammed the cruiser's door a little harder than necessary on my way out.

My mom was in hysterics, of course. I had to tel her I felt fine at least thirty time before she would calm down. She begged me to come home - forgetting the fact that home was empty at the moment - but her pleas were easier to resist than I would have thought.

I was fascinated by the mystery Edward presented, and had an irresistible urge to show him up at something, anything.

That was a the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.


	8. Annoyed

The month that followed the accident was uneasy, tense, and at first, embarrassing. To my dismay, I found myself the center of attention for the rest of that week.

Tyler Crowley was impossible. He followed me around, obsessed with mking amends to me somehow. I tried to convince him to forget about it, but he remained insistent to the point of sitting next to me at lunch every day.

Mike and Eric were even less friendly towards Tyler than they were to each other, which made me worry that I'd gained another unwelcome fan... If any more guys latched onto me, I could be a walking Gay/straight alliance club.

No one seemed concerned about Edward, thought I explained over and once that he waas the hero - how he had pulled me out of the way and had nearly been crushed too. I tried to be convincing.

Jessica, Mike, Eric and everyone else always commented that they hadn't even seen him there untill the van was pulled away.

I wondered to myself why no one else had seen him move so fast from point A (his car) to point B (me). With chagrin, I realized the probable cause... no one else was aware of Edward like I was.

I wanted very much to walk to him again, even if I was still pissed.

He was already seated when I got to Biology that day, looking blankly at the chalkboaard. He showed no sight that he realized I was there.

"Hey." I said pleasantly.

He turned his head a fraction toward me without meeting my gaze, nodded once, then looked the other way. That was the infuriating end to it.

Mike was pleased by the obvious coolness between me and my lab partner as the weeks drew on. I could see he's been worried that Edward's daring rescue might have impressed me, and he was relieved that it seemed to have the opposite effect. He grew more confident, sitting on the edge of my table to talk before Biology started, even flirting a little.

The snow washed away for good after that one dangerously icy day. Mike was disappointed he's never gotten to stage his snowball fight, but pleased that the beach trip would soon be possible.

Jessica made me aware of another event looming on the horizon - she called the first Tuesday of March to ask my permission to invite Mike to the girls' choice spring dance in two weeks.

"Are you sure you don't mind... you weren't planning to ask him? she persisted when I told her I didn't mind.

_Are you aware that he'll be miserable when you force him into a heterosexual relationship?_ I wanted to ask.

"No, Jess. I'm not going." I assured her.

"It will be really fun." Her attempt to convince my was halfhearted. I suspected Jessica enjoyed my popularity and what I had affectionately overheard her call, "That cute... well, gayness."

"You have fun with Mike." I encouraged, trying my best not to sound sarcastic. I didn't appreciate being a trophy friend. I also felt very, very sorry for Mike.

The next day, I wasn't surprised that Jessica wasn't her usuaal gushing self in Trig and Spanish. She was silent as she walked by my side between classes, and I was afraiad to ask why. If Mike had turned her down, there was bound to be blood in the water and rumors in the halls.

My fears were strengthened during lunch when Jessica sat as far from Mike as possible, chatting animatedly with Eric. Mike was unusually quiet.

Mike was still silent as he walked me to class, tthe uncomfortable look on his face a bad sign. But he didn't broacht he subject until I was in my seat and he was perched on my desk.

"So," Mike said, looking at the floor. "Jessica asked me to the spring dance."

"Dude, that's great." I made my voice bright and enthusiastic. "You'll have a lot of fun with Jessica, way to score bro."

"Well..." He floundered as he examined my smile, clearly not happy with my response. "I told her I had to think about it."

"Why would you do that?" I let disapproval color my tone, though I was relieved he hadn't given her an absolute no. His faace was bright red as he looked down again. I wondered if I was really doing the right thing.

"I was wondering if... well, if you might be planning to ask me."

The entire class turned around to look at us. I nearly fell out of my chair in embarrassment, but that didn't stop Mike.

"Please, Beall?" He asked, eyes darting around.

"I think you should tell her yes." I said evenly, wincing as a couple girls hissed. Mike looked pained.

"Did... did you already ask someone?" He asked in a panicked tone, pointedly looking around my head at Edward. I resisted the urge to facepalm.

"No," I assured him calmly. "I'm not going at all."

"Why not?" Mike demanded.

"I don't like dances, man... so I'm going to Seattle that Saturday." I said honestly. I needed to get out of town anyway - that weekend was suddenly a perfect time.

"Can't you go a different time?" This was getting more and more awkward.

"Sorry, no." I said. "You and Jess can go as friends if you feel that strongly. But it's unfair to make her wait." I finished evenly.

"Yeah, you're right." he mumbled, and turned to walk back to his seat dejectedly. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to stifle the guilt that was running rampant through my system.

I was a disgrace to Liberace's name, suppressing a fellow man's desires like I just had. At least I proposed the friends option...

Mr. Banner began talking. I sighed and opened my eyes.

I suddenly became aware that Edward waas staring at me curiously, that same familiar edge of frustration even more distinct than usual in his now-black eyes.

I stared back, surprised, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaaze with probing intensity into my eyes.

"Mr. Cullen?" the teacher called, seeking the answer to a question that I hadn't heart.

"The Krevs Cycle." Edward answered, seeming reluctant as he turned to look at Mr. Banner.

I fished out my sketch book as soon as his eyes released me and bent to my drawing, cowardly as ever. I tried very hard not to be aware of him for the rest of the hour. When the bell rang at last, I quickly gathered my things, expecting him to jet out fo the classroom as usual.

"Beall?"

I turned slowly, unwillingly, my expression wary. He didn't say anything.

"What? Are you speaking to be me again?" I finally asked.

"No, not really." He admitted, lips twitching as he fought as smile. I gritted my teeth. He waited.

"Then what do you want, man?" I asked, trying not to lose my cool.

"I'm sorry." He sounded sincere. "I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really." His face was serious.

"I don't know what you mean." I said, my voice guarded.

"It's better if we're not friends." He explained. "Trust me."

My eyes narrowed. I'd heard that line before.

"It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," I hissed. "You could have saved yourself all the regret."

"Regret?" He was caught off guard. "For what?"

"For not just letting that stupid van squish me."

He stared at me in astonished disbelief.

"You think I regret saving your life?" He said, sounding almost mad.

"Dude, I know you do." I snapped, shouldering my bag.

"You don't know anything." He was definitely mad.

I turned my head sharply away from him, clenching my jawd. I gathered my books, resisting the urge to punch his pretty face.

I meant to walk straight out the door, but I caught my boot on the doorjamb and dropped everything on the ground. I considered just leaving it, then bent down to pick my books up.

He was there; he's already stacked everything into pile. he handed it to me, face hard.

"Thanks." I said icily. His eyes narrowed.

"You're welcome. He retorted.

I turned on my heel and walked to Gym without another word.

Gym was brutal and it was an aboslute relief to leave. I almost ran to the truck, then nearly had a stroke when I rounded the corner and saw a tell, dark figure leaning against the side of my truck. Then I realized it was just Eric.

"Hey, Eric." I said, walking up.

"Hey, Beall."

"What's up?" I said, unlocking the door without eally paying attention. I hoped he would make it quick. He did.

"Would you go to the dance with me?" His voice broke on the last word. I froze, along with everyone within a ten foot radius.

"I thought it was girl's choice?" I floundered.

"Well, yeah... But I thought with you, it wouldn't really matter since we're both..." He trailed off, shamefaced.

"Thanks for the invite, but i'm going to Seattle..." I managed to say, recovering from my shock and embarrassment. Several people in the now-gathered crowd laughed.

"Oh." he said. "Well, maybe next time."

"Sure." I said before I could stop myself. I realized he might take that too literally...

He half-smiled, then slouched off. The crowd quickly dispersed. I heard a low chuckle as Edward passed the front of my truck.

Angry now, I yanked the door open and jumped inside, slamming it loudly behind me. I revved the engine deafeningly and reversed out into the aisle. Edward was in his car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me, cutting me off.

He stopped there - to wait for his family; I could seem the four of them over by the cafeteria walking this way.

I considered taking out the rear of his shiny Volvo, but there were too many witnesses. I looked in my rearview mirror. A line was beginning to form. Directly behind me, Tyler Crowley was in his recently acquired new car, waving.

I was too aggravated to acknowledge him.

While I was sitting there, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over; it was Tyler. He had jumped out of his car, leaving the door open and engine running.

I rolled my window down halfway.

"Sorry, man. Stuck behind Cullen." I said, annoyed.

"I saw. I just wanted to ask something while we're trapped here." He grinned.

I froze. This could not be happening.

"Will you ask me to the spring dance?" he continued. My eyebrows disappeared into my hair. I didn't even know he liked guys...

"I'm not going to be in town, Tyler." My voice sounded cross. I had to remember it waasn't his fault that Mike and Eric had already used up my quota of patience for the day.

"Yeah, Mike said that." he admitted.

"Then why-"

He shrugged. "I was hoping you wer just letting him down easy." Okay, it was completely his fault.

"Sorry, Tyler." I said, working to hide my irritation "I really am going out of town."

"That's cool. We still have prom." Tyler said, turning around and going back to his car before I could protest.

Rolling my window up and focusing my anger into glaring out the window, I saw that the Cullens were all packed into the Volvo. The rearview mirror caught my eye, where Edward Cullen was looking straight at me, undeniably shaking with laughter.

My foot itched toward the gas pedal... one little bump wouldn't hurt. I revved the engine, and the Cullens sped away. I drove home, growling the whole way.

When I got in the house, the phone rang. It was Jessica, rattling on about Mike accepting her invitation. She mentioned that he had said as friends only, but I had the feeling she was going to ignore that completely. I suggested to her that maybe she could pick out some girlfriends to go with Eric and Tyler and make it a triple date. She thought it was brilliant.

I hung up, feeling like a total douche. But hey, that's what happens when three dumb boys blow your cover.

After I hung up, my head was spinning. Too much girl talk about dresses... I backtracked back to Edward, pondering what he'd said that day. What did he mean that "We shouldn't be friends."?

My stomach flipped as I realized what that could mean... He must see the attraction I have to him, he might not wasnt to lead me on... so we couldn't be friends... because he wasn't interested. Or he was homophobic.

Well, of course he wasn't interested, I reasoned. I'm a guy. He's a guy... we're both guys. That and I wasn't interesting.

Well, that was fine, actually. I could and _would_ leave him alone. I would get through my schooling here and then go to college in Hawaii. I focused on palm trees and the beach and finished cooking.

Charlie seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green peppers. I couldn't blame him - the closest edible Mexican food was probably in southern Oregon. But he braved the first bite and liked it.

"Dad?" I asked when he was almost done.

"Yeah, son?"

"I wanted to let you know that I'm going to Seattle a week from Saturday. Is that okay?" I didn't want to ask permission, but I felt rude.

"Why?" He sounded surprised.

"Well, I wanted to get a few books, maybe some clothes." I had more money than I was used to having, since I didn't had to pay for a car... even if the free truck cost me quite a bit for gas.

"That truck probably doesn't get very good gas mileage." he said, echoing my thoughts.

"I know, but there's plenty of stops."

"Are you going by yourself?" he asked, and I couldn't tell if he was suspicious I had a secret boyfriend or just worried about the truck.

"Yes."

"Seattle's big..." he fretted. I could tell he was trying not to be overbearing.

"Dad, Phoenix is five time the size of Seattle, and I can buy a map."

"Want me to come with you?"

"Nah, it'll be okay."

"Oh. Well, allright then."

"Going to be back in time for the dance?"

Grrr. Only in a town this small would a _father_ know when the high school dances were.

"No." I replied. He left it at that..

The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to put myself in the path of too much temptation and end up owing him a new car.

Getting out of the truck, I fumbled my lanyard and dropped my keys in a puddle at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it before I could.

I jerked upright. Edward Cullen was right next to me, leaning casually on my truck.

"Dude. How do you _do_ that?" I asked in amazed irritation.

"Do what?" He held my lanyard out by one finger. I snatched it away and shoved it into my coat pocket.

"Appear of thin air."

"I can't help it if you're exceptionally unobservant." His voice was quiet as usual - velvet, muted.

I scowled at his perfect face. His eyes were light again today, a deep honey color. Then I had to look away across the parking lot to reassemble my distracted thoughts.

"Why the traffic jam last night, man?" I demanded. "I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don't exist, not irritating me to death."

"That was for Tyler's sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance." He snickered.

"You..." I couldn't think of a bad enough word. It felt like I could explode at any minute, but that only seemed to amuse Edward more.

"And I'd not pretending you don't exist." he continued.

"So you _are_ trying to irritate me to death? since Tyler's can didn't do the job?"

Anger flashed in his tawny eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of humor gone.

"Beall, you are utterly absurd." he said, his low voice cold.

My palms tingled - I wanted to hit him so badly. To keep myself from doing so, I turned my back and began walking away.

"Wait," he called. I kept walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But he was next to me, easily keeping pace.

"I'm sorry, that was rude," he said as we walked. I ignored him. "I'm not saying it isn't true..." he continued, "but it was rude to say it, anyway."

"Why won't you leave me alone, man?" I spat.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me." he chuckled, He seemed to have regained his good humor.

"You seriously have multiple personality disorder." I frowned. He laughed, then continued on.

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday - you know the day of the spring dance-"

"Are you trying to be _funny?_" I interrupted him, wheeling around.

His eyes were wickedly amused. "Will you please allow me to finish?"

I bit my lip and waited.

"I heard you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride."

That was unexpected.

"What?"

"Do you want a ride to Seattle?"

"With who?" I asked, mystified.

"Myself, obviously." He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped.

I was still stunned. "Why?"

"Well, I was planning to go to Seattle soon, and, to be honest, I'm not sure if you truck can make it."

"My truck works fine." I spat, starting to walk again.

"But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?" He matched my pace again.

"I don't see how that is any of you business." Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

"The wasting of finite resources if everyone's business."

"Honestly, I can't keep up with you." I said, stopping again. "I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be."

"Thanks." I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It would be more... _prudent_ for you not to be my friend," he explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Beall."

His eyes were gloriously intense as he uttered that last sentence, his voice smouldering. I suddenly couldn't remember how to breath.

"Will you go with me to Seattle?" he asked, still intense.

I found myself nodding. He smiled briefly, then became serious.

"You really should stay away from me." he warned. "I'll see you in class."

He turned abruptly and walked back the way we'd come.


	9. Blood Typing

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was difficult to believe that I hadn't just imagined what Edward had said, and the way his eyes had looked. Maybe it was just a very convincing dream that I'd confused with reality.

Sadly, that seemed more probable than the fact that I might appeal to Edward Cullen on any level.

I was impatient and frightened as Jessica and I entered the cafeteria.

Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on his table. The other four were there, but he was absent. Had he gone home?

I followed Jessica through the line, somewhat crushed. I'd lost my appetite again and bought nothing but a bottle of lemonade.

"Edward Cullen is string at you again." Jess said, managing to break through my abstraction. My head snapped up. I followed her gaze to see Edward, smiling crookedly, staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria.

Once he'd caught my eye, he raised one hand and motioned with his index finger for me to join him. As I stared in disbelief, he_ winked._

"Does he mean_ you?_" Jessica asked with insulting astonishment in her voice. Oh right, like she totally didn't know that I was gay...

"Biology homework." I muttered for her benefit, reddening. "I'll go see what he wants."

I could feel her eyes on me the entire walk over to Edward's table. When I arrived, I hovered behind the chair across from him, trying to play it cool.

"Why don't you sit with me today?" he asked, smiling. I obliged, then just sat and watched him. He watched back. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"This is different." I finally said.

"Well..." He paused, and then the rest of his words followed in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

If that wasn't some sort of pickup line, I had no idea what was. I played dumb.

"You know I don't have any idea what you mean." I pointed out, opening my lemonade.

"I know." He grinned, then changed the subject. "I think your friends are angry that I stole you."

"They'll survive." I threw back, resisting the temptation to flick my hair casually at him.

"I may not give you back, though." He said with a wicked glint in his eyes.

Oh. My. God. Was this happening? This had to be a dream... A dream about a gay fanfiction.

"You look worried." He laughed.

"No," I said, but ridiculously, my voice cracked. Damn puberty. "Surprised, actually... what brought all this on?" I swear my voice jumped an octave.

"I told you. I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." He was still smiling, but his ocher eyes were serious.

"Giving up?" I think I knew where he was going with this...

"Yes. Giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, Beall, and let the chips fall where they may."

"Dude, you so lost me," Uncool, Beall... Uncool! "In plain English, are we friends now?"

"Friends..." He mused, dubious.

"Or not." I added quickly.

"Well, we can try. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Behind his smile, the warning was real.

"It's cool, man. I heard you the first bunch of times you said it." I replied.

"Yes, but you're still not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to believe me. If you're smart, you'd avoid me."

"I think you've made your opinion on the subject of my intellect clear too, Bucko."

Edward stared, unable to comprehend that I called him Bucko. For lack of a better, or cooler, follow-up, I swigged more lemonade.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked after a few minutes of silence. I looked into his golden eyes, became befuddled, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I think I'm just tryign to figure out what the hell you're doing..."

His jaw tightened, but he managed to keep his smile even.

"Are you having any luck with that?" he asked offhandedly.

"No." I admitted, causing him to chuckle.

"Any theories?"

A fantasy of his being either Bruce Wayne or Tony Stark ran through my mind, making me guffaw awkwardly out loud. I quickly stilled myself and made some excuse about being embarrassed to admit anything.

"That's _really_ frustrating, you know." He complained.

"No," I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing, "I can't imagine why that would be frustrating at all. Just because someone refuses to tell you what they're thinkings, even if all the while they're making cryptic little remark specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean... now, why would that be frustrting?"

Edward grimaced.

"Or better," I continued, the pent up annoyance flowing freely now in what was quickly becoming a ranting feelings barf. "say that person also did a wide range of bizarre things - from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and he never explained any of that, either, even after he promised. That, also, would be very non-frustrating, am I right?"

"You're got a bit of a temper, don't you?"

"I don't like double standards."

"You're gay." It was a statement. My jaw dropped.

"W-what?" I managed to stammer.

"Your boyfriend seems to think I'm being unpleasant to you - he's debating whether or not to come break up our fight." He snickered.

"I don't know who you're talking about, or what you're talking about." I said icily. "But I'm sure you're wrong."

He looked like he very much wanted to tell me how wrogn I was about saying how wrong he was, but he thought better of it. We lapsed into ugly silence.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked.

"That depends on what you want." He replied warily.

"It's not much." I assured him. He waited, guarded but curious.

"I just wondered... if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so I'm prepared." I fiddled with my lemonade bottle.

"That sounds fair." He replied.

"Thanks."

"Then can I have one answer in return?" he demanded.

"One."

"Tell me the theory you have about me."

"Not that one." I mumbled, Ironman and Batman running across my mind's eye.

"Well, just tell me any one then. I won't laugh."

"Yes, you will."

He looked down, then glanced up through long black lashes, his ocher eyes scorching.

"Please?" he breathed, leaning in ever so slightly.

I blinked, mind blank. How the hell did he keep doing that?

"Um, what?" I asked, dazed.

"Please just tell me one little theory you have about me." Um, conceited much?

"Fine. Either it's the Batcave and cool gadgets or a playboy philanthropist with a shiny metal body suit."

"That's not very creative." He scoffed.

"Well, forgive me for being a comic buff." I replied, miffed. "You know I'll figure you out eventually."

"I wish you wouldn't try." He was serious again.

"Because...?"

"What if I'm not a superhero? what if I'm the bad guy?" his eyes were impenetrable, but he managed to smile playfully.

"Oh." I said, and went back to screwing and unscrewing the cap of my lemonade.

"You know, I don't believe you're bad." I continued after a drink.

"You're wrong." He replied, reaching out and stealing my bottle lid and then spinning it between his fingers.

I looked around the cafeteria, and saw that it was nearly empty.

"Aw, shit. We're going to be late!" I jumped to my feet.

"I'm not going to class today." He replied, spinning the top again.

"Why?"

"It's healthy to ditch class now and then."

"Well, I'm going." I told him. I was far too big a coward to ever skip class.

I wanted to say something else to him, but the ring of the bell sent me scurrying off to class. I was lucky; Mr. Banner wasn't in the room yet when I arrived. At least the rain had stopped.

I settled quickly into my seat, aware that both Mike and Angela were staring at me. Mike looked resentful, Angela shocked and awed. I resisted the urge to facepalm repeatedly.

Mr. Banner entered, juggling a few small cardboard boxes which he distributed.

Oh god.

We were blood typing.

I had very very few weaknesses, and blood was one of them. Clammy moisture broke out on my forehead. I swallowed convulsively, stomach heaving.

I put my head on the desk as Mr. Banner ran through the instructions with everyone.

"Beall, are you all right?" He asked, noticing my blob-like behavior.

"I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner." I said weakly.

"Are you feeling faint?"

"Yes, sir."

"Someone take Mr. Swan to the nurse, please." he called. I didn't have to look up to know that Mike volunteered instantly.

I got up and woozily wandered to the door. Mike was eager enough to put his arm around my waist and support me down the hall.

He towed me slowly across campus. When we were around the edge of the cafeteria, I begged to sit down. He helped me sit on the edge of the walk.

I was still so dizzy that I just slumped over onto the freezing concrete with my eyes closed.

"Wow, you're green, man." Mike said nervously.

"Beall?" a different voice called from the distance. Oh god. Not him...

"What's wrong, is he hurt?" His voice was closer now, almost sounding upset. I wasn't imagining it. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to die. Or at least not throw up on Edward Cullen's shoes.

Mike seemed stressed. "I think he's fainted. I don't know what happened, he didn't even open his kit yet."

"Beall." Edward's voice was right beside me, relieved now. "Can you hear me?"

"No." I groaned. "Get out of here, asshole." He chuckled.

"I was taking him to the nurse," Mike explained in a defensive tone. "but he refused to go further."

"I'll take him." Edward said. "You can go back to class."

"No!" Mike protested. "I'm supposed to do it."

Suddenly the sidewalk disappeared from beneath me. My eyes flew open in shock. Edward had scooped me up in his arms, just like a princess or something.

"Put me down!" I yelled. I was so not cool with this.

"Hey!" Mike called, already ten paces behind us. Edward ignored him. "You look awful." he told me, grinning.

"Put my ass back on the sidewalk." I spat back. Not only was I totally uncomfortable being carried bridal style by a guy, but the rocking motion was making me even queasier. He ignored me.

"So you faint at the sight of blood?" he asked. This seemed to amuse him. This time I didn't answer and just closed my eyes so I could focus on not vomiting.

I don't know how he opened the door while carrying me, but it was suddenly warm, so I knew we were inside.

"Oh my..." I heard a female voice gasp.

"He fainted in Biology." Edward explained to the startled nurse. "Blood typing."

The nurse nodded sagely. "There's always one."

He dropped me on a bed and then retreated to a chair nearby. The nurse didn't argue when he said he was supposed to stay with me, and bustled off for some ice.

"You were right." I groaned. "Ditching is healthy."

"You scared me for a minute there." he admitted after a pause. "I thought Newton waas dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods."

"Ha ha." I replied sarcastically.

"Honestly. I've seen corpses with more color. I was afraid I'd have to avenge your murder."

"How'd you see me? I thought you were ditching."

"I was in my car, listening to a CD." Such a normal response for someone so bizarre.

The nurse returned with a cold compress and laid it on my forehead. I instantly felt better.

Just then, another kid from Biology staggered in, looking even worse than I had. I instantly hopped off the bed to make room for him.

"Go out to the office, Beall." Edward said. I scooted out the door.

"You actually listened to me." Edward said, stunned.

"I smelled the blood," I said, managing the ugliest face I could think of.

"You can't smell blood." Edward contradicted.

"Well, I can. It smells like rust and salt." Edward's expression was unfathomable.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing."

Mike came through the door then, the look on his face confirming his hatred for edward.

"You look better." he accused. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Out of sight, out of mind, Mike."

"Going back to class?"

"Hells no."

"Well. La Push this weekend? Meet at the store and ten sharp." His body language made it clear that the invitation was for me alone.

"I'll be there, man." I pushed. I needed to get away from him. Right now.

"I'll see you in Gym then." he said, awkwardly moving to the door.

"See you."

A swell of sympathy washed over me at his disappointed face. Why was this happening to me? Was I seriously the only gay in the village?

"Gym..." I groaned.

"I can take care of that." I hadn't noticed Edward moving to my side, but he spoke now in my ear. "Go sit down and look pale."

That wasn't hard. I still looked peaky, so I used my acting skills and flopped in an office chair.

I listened to the two minute exchange between Edward and the office Lady. He worked her like putty, his voice all silken with honey. We walked away from the building with two excuse notes.

"Thanks." I said.

"Anytime." He was staring straight forward, squinting into the rain.

"Are you going Saturday?" I asked casually, already knowing the answer. There was no way Edward would cowboy up with the rest of us and go to the beach.

"Where is it?" He asked.

"La Push, First Beach, I think..." I replied. His eyes narrowed infantismally.

"I don't think I'm invited." He said.

"I invited you."

"Let's you and I not push poor Mike any further this week. He might snap and actually come out to everyone." Edward's eyes danced.

"Gah. Mike-Schmike." I growled.

We meandered into the parking lot, and I turned to go down to my truck. Something caught my jacket, halting my progress.

"Where do you think you're going?" Edward asked.

"Home?" I tried, confused.

"Uh-uh. Do you think I'm going to let you drive in your condition? Did you even listen to me tell the office lady I would take you home?"

"Wait, what? What about the truck...?" I flo9undered.

"I'll have Alice drop it off after school." He was towing me effortlessly to his car by my jacket now. It was all I could do to keep from falling backwards on my ass. He'd probably just drag me along anyway if I did.

"Let go!" I insisted. He ignored me until we got to the Volvo, where he deposited me at the passenger door.

"You are so _pushy"_ I grumbled.

"Just get in." He replied.

I mentally calculated my chances of getting to my truck before he could catch me.

"I'll just drag you back." he threatened, guessing my plan. I got in, and we took off towards my house. We were silent most of the way except for my directions and some classical music he had in the CD player. Debussy, I deduced after a while.

"How old are you, Beall?" Edward asked, breaking the silence. I was surprised.

"Seventeen, why?"

"You don't seem seventeen."

"Neither do you."

That shut him up until we got to the house.

I got out, pulling my hood up against the rain.

"Um, well... Thanks." I said. "See you tomorrow?"

"No, my family is starting the weekend early." He replied. I nodded, then shut the door and proceeded to the house. He rolled down the window and called my name.

"Beall? Do me a favor this weekend." He said. I waited.

"Don't be offended, but you seem to be one of thoe people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So... try not to fall into the ocean or get run over or anything, all right?"

I nodded once more then shuffled up the porch steps. I swore as he drove away I could see Edward Cullen smirking at me.


	10. Jacob

The worst part about Friday was that, even thought I knew he wasn't going to be there, I still hoped. When I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica and Mike, I couldn't keep from looking at his table, which was deserted.

At my usual table, everyone was full of plans for the nexr day. Mike was animatedly boasting a forecast of sun tomorrow. I'd have to see it before I would believe it.

I intercepted a few unfriendly glances from Lauren during lunch, which I didn't understand until we were all walking out of the room together. Unknown to her, I was right on her heels.

"...don't know why _Beall" - _she sneered my name - "doesn't just sit with the Cullens from now on. I mean, all fags should stick together." I heard her hiss at Mike. I'd never noticed her totally homophobic attitude or nasally tone.

"He's my... friend." Mike replied. "He sits with us."

I paused to let them pass me. Mike didn't even defend the fag comment. Sure, I'd gotten worse at my old school, but I'd thought these people would at least accept me, if not be my friends.

I ignored the group for the rest of the day. I didn't want to hear any more of their crap.

That night at dinner, Charlie seemed enthusiastic about my trip to La Push in the morning. I think he was channeling his guilt over leaving me alone every weekend since I'd gotten there. I excused myself early.

After today, I had very little desire to go to La Push with everyone. Not only did I realize that they were just a bunch of stuck up snots, but that they must have only liked me in the first place because I was new. I went to bed angry.

I meant to sleep in, but an unusual brightness woke me up. I opened my eyes to see a clear yellow light streaming through the window. I couldn't believe it. Sun.

Even if I wasn't going to have any fun on the trip, I'd go just to enjoy the sunshine while it lasted.

The Newtons' Olympic Outfitters store was just North of town. As I pulled into the lot, I recognized the group huddled around Mike and Tyler's cars. Eric, ben, Conner, Jess, Angela, Lauren and three other girls. The guys welcomed me, but the girls just glared and tossed their hair. I gave them a snarky look in reply.

"You came!" Mike called, delighted. "See? I called it with the sun!"

"Dude, I told you that I'd be here." I reminded him.

"We're just waiting for Lee and Samantha, unless you invited someone?" Mike added.

"Nope." I lied lightly. Mike instantly looked satisfied.

"Will you ride in my car?" He asked. Good grief, he was flirting again.

"Sure." I might as well humor him.

"You can have shotgun." he promised. I hid my chagrin. Jessica already looked pissed. Luckily, we ended up needing extra space, so I wedged Jess in between Mike and I. I tried not to think of her as a well manicured cock block.

It was only fifteen miles to La Push from Forks, with gorgeous views on the drive that made me glad to have the window seat. I tried to absorb as much sunlight as possible.

I'd been to the beaches around La Push many times during my Forks summers with Charlie, so the mile-long crescent of First Beach was familiar to me.

The water was dark gray, even in the sunlight, white-capped and heaving to the gray, rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbor waters with sheer cliffsides, reaching to uneven summits and crowned with austere, soaring firs.

The beach only had a thin border of actual sand at the water's edge, after which it grow into millions of large, smooth stones that looked uniformly gray from a distaance, but close up were multi-colored and really pretty.

There was a brisk wind coming off the waves, and birds wheeled around in it. We picked out way down to the beach and settled at a ring of driftood that looked like the main party spot. There was even a firepit already in place. Eric and Ben gathered wood, and soon we had a good setup ready to burn.

"Have you ever seen a driftwood fire?" Mike asked me. I was sitting awkwardly away from the groups of girls, unsure of what to do.

"No." I replied. Mike kneeled by the fire, putting a lighter to the base of one of the driest pieces of wood.

"You'll like this then, man. It's pretty colors." He used the lighter on another few sticks of wood, and the fire quickly crackled to life.

"It's blue." I said in surprise.

"The salt does it." He reaaranged some logs then came to sit next to me. Jessica instantly smelled trouble and came over to distract him.

After a half hour of chatter, the other boys wanted to hike to the nearby tide pools. It was a slight dilemma for me. I loved the tide pools, but I tended to fall in them a lot. That reminded me of Edward's request not to fall in the ocean.

Lauren made the decision for me. She was going to stay, so I decided to go. Screw what Edward Cullen said, I could go fall in tide pools if I wanted to.

We had to take a roundabout trail through the woods to get to the pools, but luckily it wasn't a long hike and we soon found ourselves back on the beach.

I hopped around with the other boys a little so they knew I wasn't chicken, but then I quickly settled myself down in front of a larger tide pool and sat down to watch the little mini ocean in front of me. Anemones, Eels, crabs and strfish all moved around the pool, easily keeping me entertained until the others wanted to go back and get some food.

When we got back to First Beach, the group we'd left behind had multiplied. As we got closer we could see the shining, straight black hair and copper skin of the new-comers, teenagers from the reservation come to socialize.

When we got back to the circle, I immediately noticed a younger boy sitting near the fire glance up at me with interest. I heard their group leader introduce him as Jacob. Food was passed around, and everyone began devouring.

During lunch, the clouds started to advance, slinking across the blue sky and casting clouds across the sun. People began to disperse; some to the nearest store, others to hike or walk on the beach. I stayed at the fire.

Jacob sauntered over to sit by me. He looked liike he was a couple years younger than me, with long glossy black hair pulled back into a ponytail and soft dark eyes and skin.

"You're Beall Swan, aren't you?"

Jesus, was there a person in the state of Washington that didn't know?

"Yeah." I replied.

"I'm Jacob Black." He held out his hand. "You bought my dad's truck."

"Oh." I said, shaking his hand. "You're Billy's son. I think I should remember you."

"Nah, you probably were stuck around my sisters more."

"Rachel and Rebecca?" I didn't know why I suddenly remembered their names.

"Yep. One's at college and the other got married."

"Wow." I said.

"So how do you like the truck?" he asked.

"I love it. Runs great."

"Yeah, but it's really slow." he laughed. "I was so relieved when Charlie bought it. My dad wouldn't let me work on building another car when we had a perfectly good vehicle right there."

"It's not that bad, man." I came to my truck's defense.

"Have you tried to go over sixty?"

"No." I admitted.

"Good. Don't." He grinned. I felt myself grinning back.

"It does great in a collision." I threw in.

"I don't think a tank could take out that old monster." He agreed with another laugh.

"So you build cars?" I asked, impressed.

"When I have time and parts." He replied, flashing a brilliant smile and looking at me appreciatively in a way I was learning to recognize. I wasn't the only person who noticed.

"You know Bella, Jacob?" Lauren asked insolently from across the fire.

"We've sort of known each other since I waas born." he replied smoothly.

"How nice." She didn't sound like she thought it was nice aat all, and her pale, fishy eyes narrowed.

"Beall," she called again, watching me like a hawk. "I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn't anyone think to invite them?" Her concerned expression was so fake, it could have been put on her face with plastic surgery.

"You mean Dr. Carlisle Cullen's family?" A tall, older native boy asked before I could respond, much to Lauren's iirritation.

"Yes, do you know them?" She asked condesendingly.

"The Cullens don't come here." he said in a tone that closed the subject, ignoring her question. I pondered on what that meant.

Jacob interrupted my meditation. "So, Forks driving you crazy yet?"

"Understatement." I replied with a grimace. I was still turning over the brief comment on the Cullens, and I had a sudden inspiration. It was a stupid plan, but I didn't have any better ideas. I hoped that Jacob was as of yet inexperienced with gay men.

"Do you want to walk down the beach with me?" I asked, flashing my classic half-grin half-smirk. Jacob jumped up willingly enough.

"So you're, what, sixteen?" I asked casually, stuffing my cold hands into the pockets of my jacket.

"Fifteen." He replied.

"Really. Thought you were older."

"My height." He laughed nervously.

"Do you come up to Forks much?" I asked. I hoped for a yes.

"Not too much." he admitted with a frown. "But when I get my liscense and the car finished, I'll be able to more often."

I nodded, and we walked in silence for a little while.

"So, what was your friend saying about the doctor's family?" I asked casually.

"The Cullens? Oh, they're not supposed to come onto the reservation." He looked away, out toward James Island.

"Why?"

He glanced back at me, obviously a little nervous.

"Hey, man... I'm not supposed to say anything."

"Promise I won't tell. Dude, I'm just curious." I flashed him another grin. He grinned back, and his voice became a little huskier.

"Do you like scary stories?" he asked ominously.

"Hells yeah." I enthused. Jacob waved me to follow him and led me over to a larger log of driftwood. We sat down, and I saw a little glint in Jacob's eye. He was going to make this good.

"Do you kow any of our old stories, about where we came from - the Quileutes, I mean?" he began.

"Nope." I admitted.

"Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming we survived the flooding of the world by tying our canoes to the tops of tall trees. Others say that we descended from wolves - that's why it's illegal for us to kill them. Then, there are the legends about the _cold ones_." His voice dropped lower.

"The cold ones?" I asked, intrigued.

"Yes. There are stories of the cold one as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who mde the treaty that kept them off our land." He rolled his eyes.

"Your great-grandfather?" I encouraged.

"He was a tribal elder, like my father. You see, the cold ones are the natural enemies of the wold - well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."

I almost didn't believe what I was hearing.

"Werewolves?" I asked.

"Yep. So the legends say. Anyhow, they only have one enemy."

"Only one?" I asked. What about silver bullets and Anthony Hopkins?

"Only one. So you see, the cold ones are traditionally our enemies. But this pack came to our territory during my great-grandfather's time was different. They didn't hunt the waay others of their kind did - they weren't dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they promised to stay off our land, we wouldn't expose them to the pale-face." He winked at me. Uh-oh. I paddled back to my quest for information.

"If they weren't dangerous, then why...?"

"There's always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they're civilized like this clan was. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist." He deliberately worked a tone of menace into his voice.

"What do you mean by civilized?" I asked curiously.

"They claimed they didn't hunt humans. They supposedly ate animals instead."

"So how does that fit with the Cullens?" I asked casually. "It kinda sounds like mumbo-jumbo to me."

"Those cold ones my grandfather met? They weren't just like the Cullens. They were the same ones." My jaw dropped, and Jacob looked pleased with himself.

"There are a couple new ones now, but the rest are the same."

"And what are they?" I asked. I had an idea already.

"Blood drinkers." he replied in a chilling voice. "Your people call them vampires."


	11. Thinking

When I got home that night, I told Charlie I had a lot of homework to do and that I wasn't hungry. An important basketball game was on TV, so he didn't pick up on the fact that I was sweating buckets.

Once in my room, I locked the door and dug through my stuff until I found my headphones and CD player. I popped in a CD that Phil had given me for Christmas, a heavy metal band that made it absolutely impossible for me to think.

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because all of a sudden I was dreaming about being in the forest. I could hear the ocean somewhere nearby.

Suddenly, Jacob Black was there, tugging on my hand.

"Jacob? What's wrong?" I asked. His face was frightened as he yanked with all his strength trying to get me to move.

"Beall, you have to run! Run!" he whispered, terrified.

"This way, Beall!" I recognized Mike's voice urging me in the direction that Jacob wanted me to go.

"Why?" I asked. "There's nothing here."

Jacob let go of my hand and yelped, suddenly shaking, falling to the forest floor. He twitched on the ground as I looked on.

"Jacob?" I asked. He was gone, suddenly replaced by a red-brown wolf with black eyes. The wolf growled at something over my shoulder.

I turned around, and a sudden light nearly blinded me.

"Beall, run!" Mike yelled.

Edward stepped out of the trees in front of me, his skin glowing, eyes black and dangerous. He held up one hand and beckoned me to come to him. The wolf barked and growled.

I took a step forward, and Edward smiled. His teeth were sharp and pointed.

"Trust me." he purred. I took another step, unable to stop myself.

With a howl, the wolf suddenly launched itself across the space between me and the vampire, fangs aimed for his pale throat.

"No!' I yelled, wrenching myself upright out of bed. My sudden movement ripped the headphones out of my ears, and I was aware of the sounds of my pounding heart and the rain outside.

My light was still on, and I was sitting fully dressed on the bed with my shoes on. I glanced, disoriented, at the clock on my bedside table. It was five in the morning.

I groaned and fell back, working my converse off with my feet.

I was still uncomfortable though, and decided to strip. When that did nothing to alleviate my anxiety at the images from my dream, I decided to screw sleeping and go take a shower.

When I was done with that, I was surprisingly more awake. Charlie had already left to go fishing, so I cleaned my room and dialed up the internet on my laptop while I went to get some cereal.

After an infuriatingly long time, I was able to clear the pop-up ads off my homepage and go to my search engine. I took a deep breath and then typed in one word.

_Vampire._

It took an infuriatingly long time, of course, and when the results did come up, there was a lot to sift through - movies, TV, roleplaying, makeup, the list went on and on. After what seemed like ages, I finally hit the jackpot. It was quick and to the point, listing several memorable vampire quotes and an alphabetized list of vampire lore throughout the world.

The first myth I clicked on, the _Danag,_ was a Filipino vampire supposedly responsible for planting taro on the islands long ago. The myth continued that the _Danag _worked with the humans for many years, but the partnership ended one day when a woman cut her finger and a _Danag_ sucked her wound, enjoying the taste so much that it drained her body completely of blood.

I read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible. It seemed that most vampire myths centered around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children and to give men an excuse for infidelity.

Only three entires really caught my attention: the Romanian _Varacolaci, _a powerful undead being who could appear as a pale-skinned human; the Slovak _Nelapsi_, a creature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in an hour; and the _Stregoni Benefici. _

__About this last there was only one brief sentence: _Stregoni Benefici: An Italian vampire said to be on the side of goodness and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires. _

It was almost a relief, hearing one small entry about good vampires. I could have laughed if I wasn't so high strung.

I still hadn't found anything to coincide with what Jacob told me or my own observations. I'd made a little catalogue in my mind as I'd read and compared all the myths on the site; Speed, strength, beauty, pale skin, eyes that change color; then Jacob's criteria: blood drinkers, enemies of the werewolf, cold-skinned, immortal. Nothing.

Aggravated, I turned off the computer. Through my irritation, I felt embarassed. It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires when I could be out doing manly things outdoors with some guys.

I had to get out of the house, but there wasn't anywhere I wanted to go that didn't involve a three day drive. I pulled on my boots anyways, unclear where I was headed, and went downstairs. I put on my raincoat without checking the weather and walked outside.

It was overcast but not raining yet. I ignored the truck and started East on foot, angling across the yard towards the ever-encroaching forest. It didn't take long till Iw as deep enough in for the house and road to be invisible through the foliage and the only sound to be the squish of the damp earth under my feet and the birds singing overhead.

There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through forest that I followed so I wouldn't get lost. It snaked around the trees, heading East as far as I could tell. I followed the path as long as my anger pushed me forwards, but eventually I got tired.

I tossed my raincoat over a log and sat down. This was the wrong place to have come. Now that I'd stopped walking, the silence pressed in on me, giving me ample space to think.

I forced myself to focus on the three most vital questions I felt compelled to answer. First, I had to decide if what Jacob said was true about the Cullens. I decided no on that. Then I had to decide whether I actually thought the Cullens were vampires. The evidence was pretty compelling; rich, never eating, pale, fast, etc.

But could the Cullens _really_ be vampires?

Well, they were s_omething. _Something outside the normal. Whether they were Jacob's cold ones or some sort of mutant superhero, they were just not... human. _  
_

Then came the last question. What was I going to do if it were true? Obviously I couldn't tell anyone, it was totally crazy. Edward's advice to avoid him as much as possible flashed across my mind, and I found myself rejecting that idea.

I sighed, hanging my head. I didn't know why it hurt to think about ignoring Edward Cullen. And I didn't want to think about it. My head spun.

I found myself wanting to go home, so I got up and quickly jogged back along the path, covering the distance as quickly as possible.

It was noon when I got back inside. I went upstairs and changed out of my slightly soggy clothes, got some food, and settled down for some homework. I was quiet and productive, finishing the paper due wednesday before eight.

Charlie came home with a large catch of fish, and I made a mental note to pick up a book of recipes for fish while I was in Seattle. I was feeling nervous for the trip already.

I slept dreamlessly that night, exhausted from beginning my day so early and sleeping so badly the night before. I woke the next morning to the bright yellow light of a sunny day. I could hardly believe it. I opened my window, breathing in the almost warm air.

Charlie was finishing breakfast when I came downstairs. He picked up on my happy gay mood immediately and looked at me warily.

"Nice day, eh?" He commented.

"Yup." I replied with a grin. He couldn't help but smile back, brown eyes crinkling around the edges. When Charlie smiled, it was easier to see why my parents jumped into a quick marriage. The handsome, romantic man had faded away through the years of bachelorhood, but when he smiled I could see why my parents had run off together.

After Charlie left, I took a can of WD-40 from the shelf by the door and headed out to the car. I took my raincoat with me just because I'd be tempting fate if I didn't, but nothing was going to kill my mood yet.

I brandished the WD-40 liberally over the window slots of my truck and finally managed to roll both of them down. I hopped in a cruised to school without even checking the clock; I ended up being one of the first ones there. I parked and headed to the seldom-used picnic benches outside the cafeteria.

I'd already done my homework, so I just leaned back and soaked up the sun.

"Beall!" I heard someone call. I opened my eyes, blinking in the sunlight. I looked around to realize that the school had become populated while I was sunbathing. Everyone was dressed like it was 90 degrees out; shorts and tee shirts. Mike was decked out in khakis and a polo shirt, coming right for me.

"Hey Mike." I replied, not having to fake the cheer in my voice.

He sat down, tidy spikes of hair glinting in the light. He was grinning, obviously happy to see me.

"Dude, you have reddish hair." he commented.

"Only in the sun." I replied, shaking it out. I needed a haircut soon.

"Great day, huh?"

"Stellar." I replied, fiddling with my earring.

"What did you do over the weekend?" Mike asked.

"Homework, food, sleep." I replied.

"Oh yeah!" Mike facepalmed, much to my amusement. "We've got that paper on Thursday."

"Wednesday." I corrected.

"Wednesday? Shit!" Mike snorted. "What did you write yours on?"

"Whether Shakespeare's treatment of female characters is misogynistic."

"That's gay." He said, looking at me as if I'd spoken pig latin.

_You're one to talk,_ I thought.

"You want to go out?" He asked.

"What?" I was taken completely off guard.

"Speaking of gay, you are... right?" Mike asked hopefully. I stiffened.

"You just called a feminist topic that has been under speculation for years gay, and you expect me to go out with you after that?" I said, slightly disgusted.

"I didn't mean anything bad about your essay, man, I-"

"Mike. No."

"Why?" he asked, eyes guarded. My thoughts flickered to Edward, and I wondered if his did too.

"If you can't respect women, you can't respect me." I said hotly, standing. "And Jessica would cheerfully murder you if I did say yes."

"Jessica?"

"Really, Mike, are you _blind? _I can see how bisexual you are!"

"Oh." he exhaled, clearly dazed. I took my chance to leave.

"It's time for class." I said, turning on my heel with what I hoped looked like an angry hair flip. Truthfully, I felt relieved.

* * *

When I saw Jessica in Trig, she was bubbling with excitement. She, Angela and Lauren where going to Port Angeles tonight to go dress shopping for the big dance, and wanted me to come too.

"You totally should come, Bee! we know that your sense of fashion is soooo much better than ours!"

I choked on my own saliva. "What?" I asked.

"Well, you know because you're... _gay_." Jessica whispered. My eyebrows disappeared into my hair.

"Um, okay... I'll ask my Dad." I said sheepishly. "But just don't call me Bee, okay?" She agreed, then began giggling with the others. I frowned, realizing that Lauren and her diva-esque, homophobic attitude would be there too. Oh well. I could always retaliate by giving her some really bad shoe advice.

Somewhere during Spanish, my brain switched off, forced by Jessica's nonstop blathering about the dance. I just focused on lunch and who I ould see there.

As was my routine at lunch, I glanced at the Cullens' table. It was empty, and my good mood drooped. I shambled behind Jessica, definitely not listening to her anymore.

The rest of the day passed slowly, dismally. I was glad to leave campus so I could maybe, just maybe STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM.

Jessica called right as I walked in the door. Mike had asked her out to dinner, so Port Angeles was cancelled. We rescheduled for tomorrow night.

Now free for the evening, I made dinner, did homework, then checked my email, groaning as I saw the backlog of messages from my mother.

**MOM, **

**I've been out. Weather's nice and we went to the beach. It's sunny for once, going to go catch some Vitamin D. **

**Beall. **

True to my word, I grabbed an old blanket and a book from my bookshelf and laid out in the yard. I couldn't resist the sun for long though, and after a bit I dropped the book and took a nap.

I was woken up by the sound of the cruiser pulling into the yard. I jumped up and grabbed my stuff, realizing that it was getting dark. I smoothed down my mussy hair and jogged inside. Charlie was already hanging up his gun belt.

"I fell asleep in the yard." I said sheepishly. "I'll finish dinner."

"No worries. Game's on." Charlie yawned before going to plop himself in front of the TV.

After dinner we watched some pointless TV show together, which was nice because I didn't have to pay attention but could still enjoy doing something together.

"Hey Dad?" I asked when it was over. "Jessica and Angela are going to Port Angeles tomorrow night to look for dresses. Do you mind if I go along to help them choose.?"

Charlie choked a little on his beer.

"What?"

"Jessica Stanley and Angela Weber want me to help them find dresses for the dance." Charlie looked confused.

"I'm giving them advice on which one looks better? Telling them if they really do look fat?" I tried, going for the humorous side.

"Okay..." Charlie said, realizing he was obviously out of his depth with the whole gay thing. "It's a school night though." I got up and ruffled his thinning hair.

"We'll leave early." I said, padding up the stairs to my room.


	12. Port Angeles

Jess drove faster than the Chief, so we made it to Port Angeles by four PM. I was already tired of the female gender by the time they let me unfold myself from Jessica's small car. I'd had to listen to trashy romance songs coupled with Jess' nonstop talk about boys and the dance. Her dinner with Mike had apparently gone well, and she wanted to get to the next base with him. I turned off my brain after a while so I could miss the details.

Port Angeles was a beautiful little tourist trap, much more polished and quaint than Forks. We drove straight to their one large department store and got out. We bantered about the meaning of 'semiformal' as we walked in. Jess could hardly believe that I'd only gone to one dance in Phoenix.

"Didn't you ever go with a boyfriend or something?" She asked dubiously as we walked in the store.

"Nope." I said, not really wanting to divulge the details. "I'm not much on the dating scene."

"Why not?" Jessica demanded.

"No one asked me. The one dance I went to, I took my girlfriend of the time." I answered honestly.

She looked skeptical. "You had a girlfriend?"

"Yes." I said, annoyed at her shocked expression. "I've had plenty of girlfriends."

"But I thought you were gay?!" She said loudly. A few customers turned to look at us.

"Keep your voice down." I said, trying not to lose my temper. She grabbed my sleeve and dragged me into the dress section.

"You aren't gay?" She asked again, quieter this time.

"I'm gay NOW. What, you haven't heard of bisexuality?" I said. Her eyes widened. Mike must have told her about him. She huffed and turned to the racks.

"People ask you out here, and you turn them down." She said nastily. I couldn't tell whether she was jealous or defensive.

"Except Tyler." Angela said quietly.

"Huh?" I asked her, confused.

"Tyler told everyone that he's taking you to prom." Jessica informed me. I snorted in spite of myself.

"Bull."

"I told you it wasn't true." Angela said defensively. I shot her a grateful look.

"That's why Lauren doesn't like you," Jessica said airily, pulling some dresses off the racks. "She thinks you're turning the whole school gay."

I ground my teeth. "Maybe if I ran him over, he'd call it even and knock it off."

"Maybe." Jess said. "If that's why he's doing this." I rolled my eyes.

"Please, Jess. Do you think it's really my fault that I show up to this school, not being public about my sexuality might I add, and all the boys start actually thinking about being gay? Come on, this is the modern world. The boys around here probably just realized that it's actually _okay_ to be gay in a small town and that there's nothing wrong with that."

Jessica practically turned purple. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Jess, it's okay... He has a point..." Angela said quietly. I felt the anger bubbling inside me.

"I'm going to go take a walk. I'll meet you at that Italian place for dinner when I cool off. I think you should consider being more polite." I said curtly, then turned on my heel and left the store.

I walked off down the street, trying to blow off some steam.

I wandered past a cheery looking bookstore, but decided that it probably wasn't the best place for me right now. I'd explore a little and see what else there was to occupy myself. I stomped along in a southerly direction, scuffing my converse on the pavement and flipping my hair.

I reached the end of the road and saw only a repair shop and some vacant spaces. I hadn't been gone long enough to go back to the girls yet, and I definitely needed to get a handle on things. I continued down the corner.

I started to realize as I crossed another road, that taking this route was a mistake. The little foot traffic I'd seen was going north, and it looked like the buildings here were mostly warehouses. I decided to turn east at the next corner and then loops around after a few blocks and try to find my way back to the boarwalk.

A group of four men turned around the corner I was heading for, dressed too casually to be heading home form the office, but there were too frimy to be tourists. As they approached me, I realized they weren't too many years older than I was. They were joking loudly among themselves, laughing raucously and punching each other's arms. I scooted as far to the inside of the sidewalk as I could to give them room, walking swiftly, looking past them to the corner.

"Hey there!" one of them called as they passed, and he had to be talking to me. I glanced up automatically. Two of the had paused and the others were slowing.

"'Sup." I muttered, trying to look casual as I turned my head away and kept walking.

"Hey, wait!" one of them called after me. I kept my head down and ignored them.

I found myself on a sidewalk leading past the backs of several somber-colored warehouses, each padlocked for the night. The other side of the street had no sidewalk. I'd definitely wandered out of safe territory, and the sun was already setting.

I chanced a look behind me to see if it was worth going back the way I came and realized that two men from the group before were tailing me. I made a mental list in my head of what I had. Ten bucks in ones for dinner and my students ID was all I had in my wallet, and my knife had fallen apart when I'd stepped on it the other day.

I reached a corner, but it was a dead end, so I kept going, trying not to feel alarmed as the footsteps continued after me. Up ahead was an intersection, I'd be safer there.

Suddenly, another two figures stepped into the streetlight. More men from the group I'd run into. I tried not to let the male rape percentage rates flip through my head and instead tried to focus on how I would defend myself. I was pretty puny compared to the four of them.

The four of them herded me into the middle of the street. I tried to stay cool.

"There you are, man." One said. "Didn't want to lose ya."

"What's this about?" I asked, trying to sound annoyed. "I don't owe you punks money or anything."

"This ain't about money." One of the men behind me growled. I curled my fists. SING; solar plexus, instep, nose, groin. Thank you, Miss Congeniality.

They closed in on me, and I prepared to fight.

Headlights suddenly flew around the corner, the car almost hitting one of the men, forcing him to jump back on the sidewalk. I dove away from them, hopefully out of the way of the tires and grabby hands.

The silver car fishtailed, skidding to a stop. The passenger door flew open.

"Get in." A furious voice demanded.

I didn't waste any time. I would rather be kidnapped and dumped in the forest than raped in the middle of the street. I dove in, slamming the door behind me. The car sped towards the populated area of town.

"Put your seatbelt on, Beall." The voice said. I clicked my seatbelt, realization dawning on me.

"Are you okay...?" I asked, staring at the white knuckles on the wheel.

"No," he said curtly, his tone livid.

I sat in silence, trying not to watch his face, lest his blazing eyes burn me.

The car came to a sudden stop. I looked around, but it was too dark to recognize anything.

"Beall?" he asked, voice tight.

"Yeah." My voice was suddenly rough. I cleared my throat.

"Are you all right?" He still didn't look at me, but inexplicable fury was plain on his face.

"Yeah." I said again, wiping my nose.

"Distract me, would you?" he asked.

"What?" I asked back.

"Just prattle about something unimportant until I can calm down." He clarified, exhaling sharply before pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Um," I racked my brain for something trivial that didn't involve Jess or Mike drama. "I'm going to run over Tyler Crowley tomorrow before school?"

"Why?" His mouth twitched in amusement.

"He's telling everyone that he's taking me to prom... I don't swing quite like that."

"I heard. You've broken the heart of every little boy at our school, practically." He said.

"Oh god, that's Lauren's fault. Jessica and I got in a fight about it today." I replied, annoyed. The car was silent for a moment.

"Better?" I asked, feeling lame.

"Not really." I sighed and waited. He leaned back in his seat.

"What's wrong, man?" I finally asked, feeling awkward now.

"Sometimes I have a problem with my temper, Beall. It wouldn't be helpful for us to turn around and hunt those..." He trailed off, angry again.

"Oh." I said. I couldn't tell whether he was kidding or not. I glanced at the clock on the dash.

"Crap. Six-thirty. Jess and Angela will think I was so angry I walked home." I said.

He started the engine with another word, heading back to the populated area of town. He found the restaurant without trouble and parallel parked without any trouble. Jess and Angela were just leaving. Before I could thank Edward, I realized that he was already out of the car. I quickly got out.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Taking you to dinner." He smiled slightly, but his eyes were hard. "Go stop those two before they ditch you."

"Jess! Angela!" I shouted, shoving my hands in the pocket of my windbreaker and walking quickly down the sidewalk. They waved and rushed back to me, their smiles of relief quickly turning to surprise.

"Where have you been?" Jessica's voice was suspicious.

"I was out cooling down and ran into Edward," I lied. "Lost track of time."

"Would it be all right if I joined you?" he asked in his velvety voice.

"Well, we actually ate while we were waiting, Beall - Sorry." Jess said, not sounding sorry at all. She had obviously returned to being annoyed with me for the snub I gave her in the store.

"That's fine, I'm not hungry." I shrugged.

"You should eat something." Edward's voice was low, but full of authority. He looked down at Jessica and spoke slightly louder.

"Do you mind if I drive Beall home tonight? That way you won't have to wait while she eats."

"Uh, no problem, I guess..." She looked delighted to be rid of me. I winked at her.

"See you tomorrow, Beall... Edward." Angela said nicely, dragging Jessica away. I liked her.

"Honestly, I don't think I'm hungry." I insisted as we watched them go.

"Humor me."

He walked to the door of the restaurant and held it open with an obstinate expression. Obviously, there would be no further discussion. I flipped my hair, annoyed, then walked past him through the door.

The restaurant wasn't crowded, it was off-season in Port Angeles. The hostess made eyes at Edward then led us to a seat in the busiest part of the floor.

"Perhaps somewhere more private?" Edward asked the hostess, winking for effect. She took one look at me and her eyes widened. She led us to a shadowy table in the corner where it was quieter.

"You shouldn't do that to people." I said out of the corner of my mouth to Edward as we walked. I noticed that we were almost the same height.

"Do what?"

We were interrupted by the arrival at our table and an awkward look from the hostess.

"Um, well, your server will be right with you." She said as she made her escape.

"Ah... Never mind." I said. Edward looked confused, then his eyes turned curious.

"Do you mean I shouldn't dazzle people?" He asked.

"Dazzle?" I asked, hoping my voice didn't wobble.

"Do I dazzle _you_?" Edward asked.

"Frequently." I said quickly, reaching for my menu.

Our server arrived, wearing a convenient rainbow button on her apron. I blushed and hid behind my menu.

"Two cokes." Edward said with a smile. The girl grinned back then disappeared.

I peeked over my menu at Edward. His eyes were fixed on mine.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." I said, surprised by his intensity.

"You don't feel dizzy, sick, cold...?"

"Should I?"

He chuckled at my puzzled tone.

"Well, I'm actually waiting for you to go into shock." His face twisted up into that perfect crooked smile. My eyebrows knit together.

"Eat something and I'll get over it." Edward said.

Right on cue, the waitress appeared with our drinks and a basket of bread sticks then pulled out her notepad.

"Mushroom ravioli." I said.

"Nothing." Edward said. The waitress nodded and left again.

I took a swig of my soda, then drank some more, surprised by the realization that I was thirsty. Edward pushed his towards me and I thanked him. A cold blast of air hit me and I realized that I was sitting over an A/C vent.

"Cold?"

"Vent underneath my chair." I replied.

"Don't you have a jacket?" He asked.

"This is my jacket..." I said.

Edward was already shrugging out of his jacket and passing it to me. I put it on over mine and instantly felt better in spite of myself.

"That color blue looks wonderful with your skin." he said, watching me.

I choked on the last gulp of my soda, coughing and looking away. I was fairly sure I was beet red.

"This is more complicated than I'd planned." he muttered to himself.

An awkward silence settled between us as I tried to clear my lungs as quietly as I could.

The waitress arrived with glasses of water, and I drank part of one to try and stop choking.

"Do you require the heimlich?" Edward asked. I flushed again and set down the water.

The waitress arrived with my food. I looked at it then tentatively took a bite.

"So. Why are you in Port Angeles?" I asked between scalding mouthfuls.

He looked down, folding his large hands together slowly on the on the table. His eyes flickered up at me from under his lashes, the hint of a smirk on his face.

"Next."

"That was an easy question." I protested, wiping my mouth with my napkin.

"Maybe I followed you so you wouldn't get in trouble." He said casually.

"Yeah, right." I said, laughing. I looked up. His intense gaze was still fixed on me.

"What, you stalk me?" I asked incredulously.

"Only you could get into trouble in a town this small. You would have devastated their crime rate statistics for a decade, you know." He laughed.

"Ouch." I replied.

"Face it, Beall. You are a magnet for trouble."

"Isn't that a chick thing?" I asked, eating more ravioli.

"Admit it. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you."

"Put yourself in that category?" I said, getting angry.

His face turned cold, expressionless. "Unequivocally."

"Sorry, man." I said, feeling bad. "That's twice now. Thanks."

"Don't go for three." Edward said.

I took another deep draw from my water glass.

"You know I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed."

"Did you ever think that maybe my number was up the first time, with the can, and that you've been interfering with fate?" I asked.

"Interesting thought." He replied. "But yet, here you sit."

"Yes, here I sit... because of you." I paused. "Because somehow you knew how to find me today?"

He pressed his lips together, staring at me through narrowed eyes, deciding again.

"Go with me here." He said after a moment. I raised my eyebrows.

"Would you believe that maybe people's thoughts could be... heard?" He asked.

"Sure." I replied. "I watch X-Files."

"Let's say, hypothetically of course, that... someone... could know what people are thinking, read minds, with one exception."

"Only one?" I asked, playing along.

"Only one. Let's call her Bella." He said.

"So, how does that work?" I asked, smiling. "What are the limitations? How do you find someone else at exactly the right time?"

"Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've heard their mind before." He looked at me anxiously, and I realized I had frozen with a bite of ravioli halfway to my mouth. I quickly put it in and swallowed.

"I was keeping tabs on Jessica. I didn't even know you took off on your own for quite a while. When I realized you weren't with the girls anymore I started driving, looking for you. I drove in circles for a while then decided to go look for you on foot, but then I heard those men and what they were thinking."

"Uh-huh..." I said, chewing.

Edward covered his mouth, frowning.

"It was very... hard - you can't imagine how hard - for me to simply take you away, and leave them... alive."

I began to feel very uncomfortable.

"Are you ready to go home?" he asked.

"Yes." I said, suddenly eager to leave.

The waitress appeared like she'd been called.

"Check please." Edward said.

She pulled a leather folder from her apron, also covered with rainbow stickers. Edward stuck a bill in it and handed it back before she could even blink.

"No change." He said sweetly, standing up. I stood also, and we made our way to the door. Edward walked close beside me.

We went to the car in complete silence. I couldn't help but feel weirded out with Edward.

He opened the passenger door of his Volvo, holding it for me as I got in then shutting it behind me. I watched him walk around the front of the car, amazed, yet again, but how graceful he was. No matter what, I just wasn't getting used to him.

Edward got in the car and turned on the engine.

I suddenly realized how close this was to the warning video about date rape I'd seen in health class.


End file.
